Ringing Wishes With Doorbells
by DDDDD-Separated
Summary: Derek may always get what he wants from his family but there's one wish Derek has never gotten. He's wished for it twice, and now, he's wishing for it once more. The situation is the same, save for one thing: Casey McDonald. Eventual Dasey
1. Prologue

_**A/N:** First LWD story. Completely unbeta'd. I did a onceover but I make no guarantees that I caught everything. Title is tentative. Rating will go up later on. T__ell me what you think. If people like it, I'm going to continue, if they don't...then I won't._

_**Disclaimer:** I do not own Life With Derek, nor any of its characters. I am simply borrowing them._

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**_Ringing Wishes With Doorbells_**

**_A Life With Derek Story_**

_Prologue_

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Casey glances up from her book in curious surprise as the doorbell rings. It's a Sunday afternoon and only she and her annoying stepbrother, Derek, are home. As far as she knows, Derek isn't expecting anyone and she certainly isn't.

This curiosity drives the more than slightly obsessive teenager to put down her latest book and open the front door to see a short, dark-haired, pale-skinned girl covered in dirt, grime and something else that Casey thinks might be bruises but can't accurately say. Her clothes are simple and in quite the state. Her ripped jeans are obviously dirty, stained with substances Casey would rather not dwell on. Her shirt seems to envelope her in its faded black fabric, hints of an old band logo written across the center of it. Over the shirt; probably the only thing keeping her warm at all; is an aged leather jacket that, at one point, must have been a thing of beauty. She is shaking in her ripped runners and fear shines bright in her grey-blue eyes as the Canadian wind tosses her short, curly, dark brown hair around her heart shaped face.

"Can I help you?" Casey asks slowly. The girl nods once, terrified as she opens and closes her mouth several times in what Casey assumes is an attempt to talk.

"D…Der…ek." She stutters out. Casey furrows her eyebrows. This girl is here to see Derek? She isn't Derek's normal blonde bimbo type so she can't help but be a little surprised and confused as she stomps to the foot of the stairs, yelling,

"Derek! Door!" She hears the rock music turn off and heavy footsteps start for the stairs. Derek rounds the corner and starts down said stairs, fast paced with a witty comment dying on his lips as he sees the girl at the door. He pauses in his trek down and looks at her carefully before letting out an exclamation of one name.

"Izzie!" Then Derek, in a burst of speed, runs down the stairs and out the door, pulling the girl on the front porch into his arms. The door slams shut behind him with an air of finality and leaves Casey even more confused than before.

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	2. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer:** See Prologue_

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_**Ringing Wishes With Doorbells**_

**A Life With Derek Story**

_Chapter 1_

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"Izzie, What are you doing here?!" Derek asks, breathless, hands clasping the girls' shoulders tight, shaking her slightly. He stops abruptly, eyes going wide, face growing more solemn as he notices the cringe of pain and her eye avoidance. "He did it again, didn't he?" Derek asks, tone indicating his words are more of a statement than a question. Izzie doesn't do anything, just keeps looking slightly to the left of Derek.

"Izzie." He says with quiet force, gently moving her face so her eyes finally meet his.

He finds his answers in the cloudy grey-blue depths and wishes for the third time in his life that he wasn't right about something. Anger fills his being as he also wishes the person who did this to the shaking girl in front of him dies a very slow, very painful death, preferably by Derek's hand.

Instead, seeing the pain in Izzie's eyes, he pushes aside all his emotions and pulls the broken girl into a tender hug while whispering,

"We'll get through this." In her ear before kissing the top of her hair, "I promise." Resting his chin on the top of her head, he wonders what the hell he's going to do to finish this ongoing fight once and for all.

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Casey McDonald watches through the window as her stepbrother pulls the dirty girl he called Izzie into a hug once again. She lets the curtain fall back in place, millions of questions racing through her head, but two in particular stand out;

Who is Izzie? And why is Derek so willing to help her?

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As the cold of the Canadian wind steals the last of Derek's warmth, he gently pulls away to look at Izzie. Her eyes are still dry, but instead of being wide open in fear like they were minutes before, the grey-blue orbs are half-closed in what Derek assumes is exhaustion. Something occurs to him and he asks,

"Izzie, how did you get here this time?" Her eyes open slightly as if she's thinking. Derek waits. Finally, she whispers,

"I don't remember." Derek nods, watching her eyes close briefly.

"How lo…" Derek doesn't get to finish his next question as Izzie starts to fall backwards. He quickly tightens his hold on her as she loses consciousness. "Naturally." He mutters to himself as he gently turns her around in his arms, picking her up bridal style and turning to the door. He kicks it three times with his foot, hoping Casey will open it for him, knowing she's been watching him and Izzie the whole time.

Casey doesn't fail him; she opens the door after the third kick. Her eyebrow is raised and one hand is on her hip. Derek can see the questions burning in her eyes, but he has no time to think of explaining the situation to Casey. Taking care of Izzie is more important.

He nods once as a thanks, then carries Izzie up the stairs and into his bedroom. He lays her on his messy bed, pausing to take in her sleeping form. Even unconscious, fear, and anxiety crease the face Derek remembers as being young and vibrant. Now, though, there are heavy bags under her eyes, her cheekbones are more prominent thanks to obvious weight loss. Dirt and other grime from her trek to get to him cover what Derek knows are bruises on her neck and cheek.

Footsteps on the stairs remind him of the other occupant of the house who has many questions Derek cannot answer. To avoid the confrontation, Derek jogs to his door and shuts it as Casey reaches the top step.

"Not now, Case." He mutters to the door, praying that she just walks right past his room to her own, "Please." He holds his breath as she pauses in front of his door. After a long moment, he hears her move on to her room and once he hears her door click shut, lets his air out in a long sigh.

Its gonna be a long night.

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_AN: Sorry it's so short. The chapters will get longer the further into the story we get. Thanks for reading, and please, leave a review._


	3. Chapter 2

**_Ringing Wishes With Doorbells_**

_A Life With Derek Fanfic_

_Chapter 2_

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As Casey's door shuts, I let out the breath I was holding in a long sigh, starting at the back of my door.

I finally turn to the exhausted girl on my bed. She's tense even in her sleep, and her face seems to have aged far beyond her seventeen years. I walk around my desk and pull my chair over beside the bed, sitting with my elbows propped up on my knees, head propped up on my hands, watching Izzie.

Her left cheekbone is black with a bruise, her lips are bitten raw, and her neck is dark with hand shaped bruises. My observation is stopped short by the too-big black Metallica shirt covered by...what I think is my old leather jacket...the one I gave to her before she left last time...

"Oh, Iz." I breathe. I know it's bad now...actually, it's probably worse. It was bad the first time she came back, and it escalated slightly the second time, but, now it...

I break that thought off before I finish it by standing and going to the foot of the bed, where I kneel on the floor and start untying the ripped, too-tight runners on her feet. I try to ease the left one off, only to find the ankle swollen to what is definitely not its normal size. With a sigh, I find my pocket knife and start to delicately cut away the fabric, trying not to jar her ankle any more than I have to.

The shoe comes off, followed closely by a dirty, wet sock and I'm left staring at what is obviously a very badly sprained ankle...possibly a broken one. I look up at Izzie, still unconscious.

_'How did you manage to get here, girl?'_ I wonder silently_, 'And just how bad was it this time that you were desperate enough to push yourself this hard?' _Even while thinking the question, I know I already have the answer; I just can't help hoping it's not true.

I really, really want it to be as simple as the first two times...ok, the first two times weren't all that simple either, but compared to what I'm guessing happened this time, those were walks in the park.

I sigh, pushing myself off the floor, knowing its useless trying to examine her more at this point. I fall silently into the desk chair and think back to the first time Izzie showed up at my doorstep when we were twelve.

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_Five Years Prior_

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_"Derek, can you get the door?" My dad yells at me from the kitchen where he's working on something or other. I don't move an inch except to yell,_

_"Ed, door!" I hear the footsteps of my younger brother running down the stairs and glimpse him walk past me to the door. _

_The door clicks open, but I don't hear anyone say anything, and after several minutes of silence, I glance over to see Edwin still standing at the open door, staring at whoever is on the other side. _

_I click off the hockey game and walk over to the door to see what is going on._

_There, in front of Edwin and I is Izzie O'Connor, my best friend who only recently moved down to the States with her father. She's bearing a killer black eye and other bruises spot her bare arms as she stands there, shivering despite the July heat._

_"Izzie?" I ask, "What are you doing here?" She manages a very strained grin,_

_"Girl can't come visit her friends during summer vacation?" She asks, trying her best to make it sound like that's the only reason she is here. I furrow my eyebrows, confused._

_"Ed, go back upstairs." I tell my still-staring brother, physically turning him around and giving him a slight nudge towards the stairs. As he climbs them, I usher Izzie into the house and on my chair, yelling, "Dad!"_

_"What is it, Derek?" He yells back. I roll my eyes,_

_"Come here." I hear him sigh before footsteps signal his walk to the living room._

_"What...Izzie?" Dad looks as confused as I feel._

_"Hi, D...Mr. Venturi." Izzie murmurs quietly, looking down at her hands. I sit on the arm of the couch, looking at her, studying the bruises on her arms. Dad comes around in front of her, kneeling on the floor._

_"Izzie, what happened? What are you doing here?" Izzie opens and closes her mouth several times before looking at me, then Dad. She meets my gaze again, grey-blue eyes full of tears threatening to spill over._

_"Izzie?" I question softly and suddenly, she's sobbing. I don't think as I pull her into my arms, forgetting for a moment my aversion to all crying females. _

_Dad gets up and motions to the kitchen. I nod slightly, unconsciously tightening my hold on the girl in my arms. We're alone in the living room, her crying and me holding her, for God only knows how long. _

_Eventually, her tears slow, along with her breathing. I can feel the exact moment she falls asleep and I know I won't be getting any answers until after she wakes up. _

_I lean her back in the chair gently, pull a blanket off the couch and drape it over her before going into the kitchen to talk to my dad._

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_"She's asleep." I say my voice barely a whisper. Now that she is, I can feel confusion and even some fear creeping into my consciousness again. Dad sighs, looking up from the papers in front of him._

_"She say anything?" I shake my head. Dad nods._

_"What's going on, Dad? What happened to her?" Dad sighs again, motioning me over._

_"Take a seat, D-Man." I sit on the stool next to him, waiting impatiently for him to tell me that Izzie's fine, this is just a joke or something. "Derek, I don't know what's going on with Izzie right now,"_

_"But..." I interrupt, but Dad cuts me off before I can get started._

_"Derek, just listen to me right now, can you do that?" I nod, "Good. I don't know what's going on with Izzie, but I will find out. Right now, what I need you to do is just be with her. Make sure she knows she's not alone. Ok?" I back towards the living room where Izzie is before meeting my Dad's eyes steadily._

_"Ok." _

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It took a while, but we got the truth out of Izzie. Her father was beating her, regularly. Dad had guessed as much, and to be honest, by the time she told us, I had my suspicions. Izzie had alluded multiple times she was scared of her father, after all.

Izzie's father, Liam, is a single parent. His wife, Izzie's mother, died while in labor with Izzie. He had run off about a week before she had gone into labor, thus leaving Izzie to child services. Later, a three month old Izzie was adopted by a young couple looking to start a family. Some years after the adoption, her father showed up again and demanded custody. The court, for some absurd reason, granted it, resulting in Izzie's moving out of the country almost year after the demand.

After three weeks of silence on Izzie's part, and the difficult task of forcing her to eat while at the same time trying to go on as though nothing had happened, Izzie finally spoke. She told us she didn't want to go back, causing Dad to double his efforts to keep her in Toronto with us. Ultimately, he failed and she was sent back to her father.

I reach out and grasp her hand lightly, repeating my earlier statement to her,

"We'll get through this," I lean over to brush a dirty curl off her forehead, adding, "Once and for all."

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AN: Not my favorite chapter, but, it had to be done. I'll probably rewrite it later. Sorry if Derek is a little OOC. If you're looking for a disclaimer, see the first chapter.


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